


swallow nostalgia (chase it with lime)

by bunnieju



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT)-centric, Nostalgia, Soloist Mark Lee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnieju/pseuds/bunnieju
Summary: Mark Lee is a small-town boy turned famous solo artist, on the week of his 22nd birthday he finally returns home for the first time and is thrown a surprise party by his childhood friends which he had minimal contact with since he left at 16.
Relationships: referenced Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59
Collections: Mark Lee Birthday Bash 2020





	swallow nostalgia (chase it with lime)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [junesuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junesuns/gifts).



> for june <3
> 
> hi!! first of all, i'm sorry because i really don't think this is what you wanted, but i was in too deep and couldn't turn back. i hope you still like it!! it was real fun writing this, thank you for giving such nice prompts!!

“Mark!” A voice exclaimed as Mark slowly opened the car door, sleep still clouding his brain. Before Mark could even finish opening the door, a force pushed it open and yanked him out of the shoulder of his hoodie. Immediately, all sleep left his head, and he found himself squeezed between two familiar arms.

Mark smiled, leaning further into the embrace of his mother and wrapping his own arms around her small frame. “You’re manhandling me first thing in the morning, ma?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” His mother pulled back, using both her hands to pinch and pull at his cheeks. “I’m manhandling you at 10 am.”

Mark laughed the best he could with his mother disfiguring his cheeks, before whining and attempting to get away from her. He wasn’t able to get away from her, but eventually, she decided she had enough and stepped back to get a proper look at him with a grin.

“Here’s your luggage, Mark,” Another voice sounded behind him, followed by a quiet thump against the pavement. “Good morning, Mrs. Lee.”

“Good morning, Doyoung.” His mother greeted his manager.

“Oh, yeah,” Mark spun around to give Doyoung a quick hug in gratitude and hold the handle of his suitcase. “Thanks for driving me here.”

Doyoung smiled, ruffling Mark’s hair. “Happy Birthday, golden boy. I’ll come to pick you up next week.”

“Would you like to come in and stay for lunch, Doyoung?” His mother asked.

“Ah, thank you but no, I need to get back to Seoul since I have some afternoon schedules with some other artists at the company,” Doyoung shook his head with an apologetic smile.

“Have a safe drive back, then.” Mark waved along with his mother as Doyoung made his way back around to the driver’s side of the car and got in. Doyoung waved back and took off, disappearing around the corner at the end of the street.

Mark turned back to face the house and his mother.

Being home after so long felt like stepping back in time into the bubbles of his dearest memories. Despite the five-year time gap in his reality for his little town, he still remembered everything about the place and it seemed like nothing had changed. The rows of near-identical houses distinguishable only by their mismatched colors, his mother’s small flower garden full of hydrangeas and hibiscuses covering parts of their front yard, cracks in the pathway he’d fallen countless times over, the birdhouse he and his brother constructed when they were children and hung at the edge of their porch, a fissure in the porch's column from where he’d accidentally hit it with a baseball bat — all things that bleed from his memories and into the scenery before him as if he’d never left.

It was as if Mark could see the two little boys running around the yard, reckless in their ventures but careful to never trample the garden their mother worked so hard on, heads donned with paper crowns and hands holding up their cardboard swords — setting out to rule their world, yet always returning home to the arms of his loving mother.

It felt like he was seven again, standing in front of his smiling mother, with a fondness for the only home he’d ever known.

“You’ve grown so much, Mark,” his mother’s eyes softened for a moment, but she shook her head and replaced it with a more firm yet loving look. “Come in, I cleaned your room just for your arrival. Your father and brother will be back from the shop for dinner since they have a busy day.”

If standing outside his house felt like stepping back into the bubbles of his dearest memories, then stepping into his room was as if he never left. Mark was 15 years old again and still in the middle of his bookworm phase — when he had the time to get through up to five a week while still maintaining great grades, a social life, and extracurriculars. Truth is that 15-year-old Mark was an overpowered anomaly that would step on 21-year-old Mark, and evidence of it was all over his room.

The walls were a horrid green that he never had the heart to change because his father picked it so enthusiastically, paired with black curtains he loved so much because they allowed him to ignore the daylight. In the room's corner, next to his dresser and closet, was a bookshelf filled to the brim with books he’d read and some that he never got to. His bed was pushed into another corner of the room covered with his mom’s signature white bedsheets and duvet since she thought they were fancy and refused to get another even when he insisted. Next to his bed was his desk, still slightly messy with books he never fit into the bookshelf and loose papers from high school. On the door frame were distinct lines labeled with dates as Mark’s growth progress trackers, ranging all the way from when he moved to the town in 2006, to 2015, the last date being the day before he left for Seoul.

It was a terribly mismatched mess, but it bore witness to Mark’s evolution from a shy kid seeking his place in the world to a naïve teenager chasing his dream, now a successful adult returning home.

Mark rolled his luggage to a stand next to his door, closed the curtains, and threw himself onto his bed with a relieved sigh. He must have dozed off pretty quick because the next time he came to was within the panic of hearing his door slam open and hit against his wall hard.

“Mark!” A voice yelled for the second time that day. Mark didn’t even have time to react or catch his brain up to the situation at hand before his bedroom light turned on and his body dropped on top of him followed by one more body and collective screaming. In the mess of clothing and limbs, Mark caught glimpses of brown hair before a familiar face leaned over his bed and into his line of sight.

“Jeno!” Mark gasped, sleep quickly being replaced with shock.

“Hi, Mark,” Jeno smiled, then raised an eyebrow. “You’re back in town and we had to find out from your brother. Did you forget about us, superstar?”

Jeno had clearly grown up. No longer was he a tiny young teenager, with a high pitched voice and a chronic bowl cut. The Jeno that stood before him was an adult that had grown into his body, standing taller than Mark with a soothingly deep voice and perfectly styled light brown hair. It was still Jeno, evident by his unchanging kind eye smile, but it was a Jeno with five years of growth that Mark hadn’t seen.

Mark’s ears burned with embarrassment and shame. The trip home had been a last-minute thing pushed by his label mates since Mark was notorious for never taking actual vacations or returning home; most times it was his parents or brother going to Seoul to spend a few days with Mark at a time, and even then he still went to the studio for a few hours a day. Mark had been working since he turned 16, determined to make a name for himself in an industry he’d entered considerably late compared to his competition, most of them being trainees since they were pre-teens with way more experience on their hands. He had no time to be slacking off and teenage Mark took that as no time to be maintaining a social life.

Still, it was no excuse for Mark’s lack of contact for the better part of the five years he was gone. He’d tried calling every weekend at first but slowly it became every two weeks then three weeks then a month, until Mark was staring his sweaty reflection in the practice room at 4 am, realizing it’d been six months since he last talked to anyone back home, aside from his family, and even them pretty sparingly. Mark didn’t expect that they’d want to talk to him once he returned — he didn’t deserve it.

But there he was, warmed by the giggling bodies laid over him, face to face with one of his best friends. Mark didn’t even have time to gather his words into a response before another voice sounded from the doorway.

“Yah!!” Renjun’s voice rang through the room. “Didn’t I say not to squash him before I got here to videotape it?”

Immediately the bodies weighing him down lifted themselves off him, allowing Mark to breathe properly once more and get a proper look at who doggy piled on him.

“We couldn’t help it, Renjun!” Chenle exclaimed, taking a seat at the edge of Mark’s bed. “It’s not every day some big shot idol comes to our town.”

“Don’t be such a buzzkill,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes, deciding to lay himself over Mark’s stomach.

“I’m not a buzzkill!” Renjun scoffed, making his way over to flick Donghyuck’s forehead and prompting a pained groan from Donghyuck, then sitting at Mark’s desk. Jeno laughed, leaning against Mark’s desk.

And Mark laid there with a fondness settling in his chest; he was home.

“I hope you can see why we had to ambush you, Mark,” Renjun carefully placed a backpack on the floor. “Your mom even let us in, so we have full permission to smother you if we see it fit.”

“Don’t worry, we haven’t decided your fate yet,” Jeno chimed in.

Mark groaned as Donghyuck shifted, digging an elbow into Mark’s thigh, then responded. “Geez, guys, that’s totally reassuring. At least you didn’t immediately want my head on a stick.”

“Trust me, we thought about it,” Chenle said nonchalantly.

“I didn’t expect you guys to come,” Mark admitted.

“Of course, you didn’t,” Donghyuck scoffed. “You didn’t even tell us you were coming home.”

“I didn’t expect you guys to want to see me anyway.”

“Why not?” Renjun raised an eyebrow at Mark. “You’re still Mark Lee, our best friend, or did you ditch us for superstar friends?”

Mark’s eyes widened. “No, of course not. I just haven’t been in contact so I thought you guys were mad at me or something and wouldn’t want to see me.”

“We’re mad, but that doesn’t warrant us throwing you in the trash.” Donghyuck said.

“That’s why we’re here for a very very special birthday party slash reunion with the entire gang!” Jeno added. “Well, most of the gang, for now, Jaemin and Jisung go to university in the next town over and they won’t be back for another hour or so.”

Maybe Mark didn’t deserve it, but he’d never reject it and was thankful he was allowed it. And that’s how Mark found himself getting comfortable in his room, sitting on his bed with his back against the wall as Jeno and Renjun set up Renjun’s projector and Donghyuck laid in his lap. Donghyuck and Chenle had been catching Mark up to speed with everything that had happened not only in their little friend group but also around town with Jeno and Renjun chiming in wherever they could.

Turns out a lot had happened while he was gone. Donghyuck was studying at their local college, hoping to follow in his mom’s footsteps and work for their local government branch. Chenle was doing online university, pursuing a business degree so he could take over his Dad’s supermarkets. Jeno was a part-time student at their local college while working as a paralegal for one of his moms. Renjun opened up his own design and editing business and was doing pretty well for himself. Jaemin was studying early education and Jisung was studying biomedicine, both at a university a town over because they had better programs than their local college.

Not only career and studies wise, but also in terms of relationships and memories. Jeno had been dating a girl Mark doesn’t know since his third year of high school. Renjun and Donghyuck also had been dating since the previous year, though their dynamic didn’t change much, proving just how inevitable they were and how long they’d been pining. They briefly had a band and actually got to perform a few local gigs as teenagers before they disbanded. Jisung started dancing and had continued it even then. Chenle had moved to China for a year before returning. Jaemin’s mom gave birth and Jaemin was no longer an only child, leading to very interesting babysitting experiences.

Mark took a deep breath. It was quite overwhelming to receive an info dump of all he’d missed, and the guilt in his heart only grew stronger with every passing minute.

Not even the arrival of Jaemin and Jisung allowed for the weight on his heart to finally release him. Instead, it managed to make it even heavier. Seeing Jisung all grown up when the last time Mark had seen him he was basically a child asking Mark when he’d return was whiplash. Seeing Jaemin all grown, so smiley and happy when they last spoke Mark had held him through tears was an additional weight to drag him down.

“Why if it isn’t absolutely fully capable Mark Lee…” Jaemin teased, pulling Mark into a tight hug. “Sorry to keep a superstar like you waiting but I think it’s only fair since I’ve been waiting five years.”

Mark blushed a bright red before giving Jaemin a light smack on the shoulder with a sheepish smile.

Jisung rolled his eyes, sitting down on the floor next to Chenle’s feet. “My professor was ranting and held the class back a few extra minutes like an asshole.”

“It’s okay,” Mark replied, leaning forward to ruffle Jisung’s hair, which prompted a slight screech and Jisung crawling away out of his reach.

“Stop doing that, hyung,” Jisung complained, fixing his hair. “I’m not a baby anymore.”

“You’re still my baby,” Mark objected, backed by several other voices echoing his sentiment. Jisung groaned but took the defeat.

“You should listen to Jisung when he says he’s not a baby,” Jaemin piped up with a snicker. “Word on the street is that he has multiple people wanting to date him at our school.”

Multiple gasps sounded through the room as Jisung simultaneously hid his face in his hands, yelling at Jaemin. “Why would you tell them! God, now I’ll never hear the end of it!”

Chaos descended upon the room as everyone tried to get Jisung and Jaemin to fess up more information about Jisung and his multiple admirers. A conversation which then developed into people grilling Jeno about when he was going to bring his girlfriend to meet Mark, then into gossip about local scandals.

The conversation bounced about rapidly and one thing was very clear to Mark through a new feeling that arrived to keep his guilt company.

Mark returned to the same town with the same streets, to the same houses with the same people, to the same smiles with the same embraces — a place seemingly timeless and stagnant in his memories. But it would be foolish to think things would remain the same as he’d left them five years ago.

It had been hard to spot with his black and white view of the town, in an attempt to match it back to that faded bubbled memory he recognized but the colors of the houses in his neighborhood had changed and evolved, his mother’s garden was a lot bigger than five years ago, there were more unfamiliar cracks in the sidewalk, the birdhouse was no longer in used and its paint had faded, the fissure in the porch’s column had been chipped at, making it even bigger.

Mark would be foolish to imagine that he’d still have that Mark shaped hole he’d left all those years ago, that he’d fit back in as if he never missed a beat or several hundred. Everyone had grown to fill in the hole he left behind and Mark was no longer part of their natural flow; now he would never fit like he used to. It was like returning to your room after a long day and finding that not only had someone shifted all your furniture three inches to the left, but also misplaced your favorite plushies, and now you couldn’t find them.

The conversation around Mark continued as lively as ever, even as he found himself contributing less and less until he was sitting there completely silent.

Watching his friends chatter back and forth about things he should have been there for still filled Mark’s chest with a familiar fondness, but this time lined with a new longing for all the time he’s missed.

Eventually it became so heavy that Mark had to excuse himself and headed to his back porch to catch some fresh air before he had to return. He thought that they wouldn’t immediately take notice of his off-kilter mood, but even five years of distance could make them less skilled in the areas of Mark reading.

“What’s wrong, Mark?”

Of course they’d send Jaemin. Jaemin knew how to make anyone feel better regardless of his relationship to them, but Jaemin was also one of Mark’s number one weaknesses.

“You guys are oddly perceptive,” Mark replied, turning back to lean his arms on the railing.

“We just know our own,” Jaemin lifted himself to sit on the railing next to Mark.

“Can I really still be considered your own still?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?”

Mark played with his fingers so as to not have to look at Jaemin. “I mean I left to become an idol and just stopped talking to you guys completely.”

“We know you, Mark. We know how hard you work and how you throw yourself completely into something once you put your head to it.” Jaemin replied. “We could never hold that against you when we know you were out there alone trying to make it big, trying to survive.”

“I didn’t even try. I could have, but I didn’t even try because I was so stuck up my ass.”

“But you weren’t stuck up your ass. You were a kid just like us, all alone and stuck in a ruthless industry. Don’t think your mom didn’t tell us every time you wound up in the hospital from exhaustion.” Jaemin sucked in a breath loudly. “We were worried but you’re so fucking stubborn, we knew you wouldn’t slow down until you felt like you accomplished something.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark whispered. “It’s just that I feel like I’ve missed everything. Like everyone’s grown and I don’t fit in there anymore.”

“I know things aren’t like they used to be, but they never will be, not with everything that’s happened, not with how much we’ve all changed. So, instead of trying to fit back into that mold from the past, we need to keep moving forward as the new people we are, Mark.”

“I know this, logically I do,” Mark sighed, tracing the lines in the railing. “But how do I stop feeling like this? Like I will never actually ever belong or deserve this?”

Jaemin paused for a few moments before responding. “I don’t know, Mark. All I can say is to trust us to love and accept you in a new way that fits the person you’ve become, and we’ll trust you to do the same.”

“I really miss those days. Those days that we ran up and down the town causing trouble and having fun together, just being dumb kids. It feels like I lost something.”

“Nostalgia. Longing or wistful affection for a time or place with happy personal associations.” Jaemin placed a comforting hand on Mark’s shoulder, causing Mark to finally look at him. “That’s normal, Mark, but we’ve grown up and we can make new memories just as happy.”

Looking at the saddened look in Jaemin’s eyes contrasted by his gentle smile pulled at Mark’s chest differently, reminding him of when they were younger and dumber.

“I’m sorry for what happened to us too, Jaemin. We were young, but it still hurt.”

The gentle smile on Jaemin’s face visibly dropped before being replaced with a less authentic version that Mark could immediately tell apart. “Ah, well, there’s nothing we can do about that anymore. I guess we were each other’s first heartbreak, it was just a naïve time in our lives. We weren’t even actually together, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I know. Sometimes I wish I could have done things differently, but it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late, Mark.”

Maybe it wasn’t too late, but they were different people from who they used to be, no matter how much of their old selves shone through the cracks.

“Let’s head back, they must be getting impatient by now.” Jaemin slipped off the railing, heading inside. Mark took a few more moments to recover from their conversation before making his way inside too.

“Okay, since we’re all here now, it’s time to vote Mark’s fate!” Donghyuck exclaimed, as Mark re-entered the room. Jaemin pushed Mark to sit on his desk chair and everyone gathered around him.

“The high council AKA Renjun and I have decided on our dearest fate. He is to be dunked in Purple Bloom Lake before his birthday ends and then buy us pizza with his fat wallet.” Donghyuck gave Mark a wide grin. “Everyone in favor, thumbs up. Everyone against, thumbs down. Three...two....one!”

Not a single hand gave a thumbs down, prompting a collective cheer that developed into a messy happy birthday song with everyone singing over each other and out of sync.

Being dunked in Purple Bloom Lake at night was a terrible fate, but even then Mark couldn’t help the happiness soaring through his body and the grin so wide it should hurt.

It was an occupational hazard, missing occasions that he can’t rewind — the cost of chasing his dream, he supposes. Somewhere in between, Mark lost so much of what was his in their town, but he’d never lose them.

  
  



End file.
